


Paint Me Wings

by QueenLuke



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer, 5SOS, Muke - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Feminization, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4559598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenLuke/pseuds/QueenLuke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is a art student with a bad temper and pink hair,he’s bisexual and has small kitten to keep him company in his tiny apartment that smells like paint. But then he meets Luke, a quiet and adorable boy that suffers from some kind of disability and he falls hard for him , the real challenge is not to win him over but to keep him and not hurt him by losing his cool.</p><p>or Luke can't walk and Michael finds him to be a masterpiece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint Me Wings

**Author's Note:**

> So i wrote this story with Carly (thesoulsailor) so please give her just as much credits for this story.

Michael pushed the heavy wooden doors open that belonged to his uni's library. He was in search of whatever inspiration he could find. Michael wanted to draw away in silence , in his own little bubble, and the library was the perfect place for that. 

Immediately, there were eyes on him. Michael didn’t even blink. He was used to it. People tended to stare at him, whenever he entered a room. To blame was presumably his pink hair or maybe the fact that he was dressed in all black. His the outfit screamed 'outcast'. But Michael wore it with poise. His outfit was a part of who he was and he was proud of that. With a sigh, Michael fixed the strap of his backpack around his shoulder and pushed his legs to walk, heavy combat boots slapping against the ground as he made his way over to an empty table that was close to a window.

Michael sat down at the table by himself and opened his bag, getting out his sketchbook and pencils. It was something he did daily, something that would drive people around him insane. 

“You're always drawing Michael.” It was kind of what caused him to have no friends.

Michael sighed and opened his sketchbook. He had gotten it in his first year of uni, a present from his mother. Something that held the worth of the world to Michael, partially because his art was his life, partially because his mom was the only thing he had. 

Browsing through the pages, he let his fingertips trail over smudges of charcoal and lines of pencil, slightly rippled paper where he had worked with water colours. There were countless sketches in his book. Now in his second year of college, Michael's sketchbook was almost half full. Some of the sketches had taken him minutes, some hours, some days and few even weeks because Michael wanted it to be perfect. Everything that was in his book had to be perfect.

Eventually, Michael landed on a blank page and neatly flattened it with his hand before taking the pencil that was laying next to it. Tapping on the table with it as he stared out of the window, he searched for something to catch his eye, something worthy enough to be immortalized by him.

There were many things to draw, but nothing appealed to him. Michael stared out of that window for a long time. It was frustrating him because why wasn't there anything appealing to him, why couldn't he just draw that boring tree that was standing there right in the middle of his uni's campus. Because it's boring, his mind told him. And Michael hated boring. It made him think to much about his own boring life.

Michael groaned in frustration. It came out a bit loud which caused the people nearby to hush him and others to throw him a nasty glare, something along the lines of 'shut the fuck up' in their tired, caffeine-fueled expressions. Michael didn’t squirm. He could live with the fact that they were all staring at him, all of them, except one boy, a blonde boy, sitting at a table right across from him. From this far of a proximity, Michael could make out earphones in his ears and a book in his hands.

Michael scrunched up his nose. He had always wondered how people were able to read and listen to music at the same time. It was something that had never made sense to Michael. Yet, there was something about the blonde boy, apart from his multi-tasking ability that was, that made Michael keep looking at him. He wasn't going to lie. The boy was beautiful. Something sweet and pure, fascinating seemed to radiate off of him. 

And suddenly Michael's hand started to move over the paper. He had found his muse. Michael quickly drew the outlines of the boy's face, his sharp jaw , pouty lips and cute button nose, the stunning sharp blue eyes and blonde quiff.

Michael tried not to think about it while he drew, but he couldn’t not think about it. The boy was something that made Michael hate his ugly features even more because he was perfect in every single way, even the small patch of acne that was on his cheek did not make him look just slightly imperfect.

In that very moment, a soft smile appeared on the blonde guy's face, probably a reaction to something from the novel in his hands. Next, the boy let out a soft chuckle and Michael wanted to melt in awe. Instead, he quickly focused his attention back on his drawing as the blonde looked up. He was surveying the room, looking if anyone had heard him laugh and Michael couldn’t help the blush that burned on his cheeks. Sure, they were in the library, a public space. Nonetheless, he felt like he had violated the boy somehow, like he was too impure to watch such a pure creature exist. 

Michael was quick to finish the outlines of the boy’s face, body, the book clutched in his hands and the table he was resting his elbows on as he read the thick novel.

The pink haired boy was just glancing up and down from his sketch as he tried to focus on the small black hoop that was around the boy's pink lips when the blonde  
looked up. And like that, Michael was caught. Paralysed by cerulean irides, Michael felt his cheeks heat up, his heart thudding loudly in his chest.  
But then the moment was over and the blonde just gave him a small smile which Michael returned. He continued drawing. He couldn’t help it. He had started a piece, he had to finish it.

He had been drawing at least for two hours before his pencil eventually fell from his cramped hand. Finally finished. It were times like this, where Michael stopped wondering why he had no friends. But it was hard for Michael to care when he looked down at his work, a perfect rendition of the boy’s beauty. It was worth it. 

Carefully, Michael placed his sketchbook in his bag , along with his pencils. Then he got up and walked out of the library, pushing some earphones in his ear's in the process. The pink haired boy reached the doors and quickly took one last glance at the gorgeous blonde boy who was still reading. A frown appeared on Michael’s features.

As opposed to what he had expected, the boy was not seated in one of the uni's uncomfortable chairs, but in a wheelchair. Michael shook his head before walking out of the library.  
~~~

That day in the library had been the first time Michael had seen the gorgeous boy, ever, but that somehow did not mean he wasn't on his mind from then on. It had been two weeks and Michael had not seen the boy around, fortunately. He missed the sight of the boy, only having his sketch of him to look at. Michael had to admit that he looked more than once a day at the sketch and wondered where the beautiful stranger was. It was obsessive and wrong, probably, but Michael didn’t care. As it looked like, the blonde boy probably didn’t even attend his school. 

Right now, Michael was home, at his small apartment. He was sitting on the couch while he ate his breakfast. Elsa, Michael's kitten which he had rescued from a trashcan a couple of weeks ago, laid in his lap, purring ever so softly. 

The story how he found her was quite simple and, according to his mum, heart-warming. He had been just taking his trash out to the dumpsters at the back of the apartment building when he had seen the small white thing sitting there on it's own. Elsa had kept meowing, shivering from the cold and of course Michael had not been able to just let her sit there and die. So he had taken her inside with him and fed her milk and some food he had still left, after having checked if cats were allowed to have it. In the evening, he had taken the kitten with him and let her sleep in his warm bed. Michael's plan had been to take her to the kennel but it had already been too late the next morning. He had fallen in love with the kitten after he had woken up with her on his chest . His heart had ached at the thought that the poor thing had been all alone, probably abandoned by his owner. 

Michael smiled and glanced down at the small ball of fur in his lap and started to pet her. He had taken her to a vet and had gotten her checked out. Luckily, it had turned out she was perfectly healthy, apart from the fact that the small kitten could've starved to death if Michael hadn't discovered her.

The pink haired boy finished his breakfast and scooped the kitten up in his arms before getting off of the couch. Michael had class soon. So he quickly put some food in Elsa's bowl and put her down. The tiny fur ball immediately started to eat.

Michael had tons of sketches of the small animal in his sketchbook. But who could have blamed him. The kitten was white and grey with ice blue eyes, eyes that definitely did not remind Michael of someone.

The kitten had claimed it's own spot at the foot of Michael's bed and the pink haired boy was fine with it. He even had gone all out and bought way too much cat toys and pillows for her then necessary but he wanted to spoil the small thing.

Michael checked the time and groaned. He should really needed to get going. Getting locked out of the classroom was not not what he had in mind today, especially not since he was so busy with a big project. They were working on body formations and Michael had always loved drawing people.

Grabbing his leather jacket and putting on his combat boots, Michael was ready for another day of college. He grabbed his art supplies before he walked out of the door yelling a 'bye' to his kitten out of habit.

The pink-haired boy got into his car before driving off to college. The drive was short since he lived only a couple miles away. But Michael being Michael had stopped at Starbucks to get himself a coffee to get through the morning. Michael did not do mornings, only cute boys .

Once Michael arrived, he got out of his car, locking it and swinging his bag over his shoulder. He looked at the tall brick building that was his college. It happened to be one of the best colleges in Sydney and he had the honour to have been accepted by them.

The college wasn't bad at all, he enjoyed his classes that were filled with exciting teachers. It was something he did not remember from high school. Michael was glad he had escaped that one.

Michael walked into the brick building and was met with the smell of college. It was a weird smell but yet a comforting one. Michael had worked his ass off to be here, studying day and night, painting, drawing, everything to get him a full ride because he knew his mom wouldn't be able to afford a college like this.

Michael turned a corner and his heart stopped. There, in the middle of the hall, was the boy, the boy he hadn't seen in two weeks, the blond that had been running through his mind day and night for the past two weeks. Michael frowned as he saw the boy struggle to get a book from the ground while he was trying not to fall out of his wheelchair.

Michael shook his head and walked over to the boy. He sunk down and grabbed the book making the blonde let out a tiny scream, not having seen the pink-haired boy. That was a first for Michael.

"Need this?" Michael said and Luke nodded, not knowing if Michael was one of those bullies who would only throw his book further away. The boy with the pink hair handed him the book. Dutifully, Luke thanked him.

He couldn't help but stare at Michael's hair. It was hot pink but it looked so good on the pale boy, like really good. Luke was not gonna lie the other boy was handsome.  
The next moment, Michael cleared his throat and the blond blushed. "Right, sorry, thanks for that..." 

"Michael", Michael replied and Luke gave him a small smile. 

"Michael." He repeated the name. It rolled off of his tongue easily.

"Do you need to help me with something else?" Michael asked and the blond shook his head. 

“No but thanks for asking." Luke shot the other boy a grateful smile and Michael gave him a small one back. 

“Well if you ever need anything and you see me, just call me over." Michael said and Luke nodded before rolling away in his wheelchair.  
And Michael wanted to slap himself. 'Just call me over.” Nice screw up, Mike.


End file.
